Turbo Cancer: Day 153 - November 11, 2022
Thanksgiving Planning
This day, last year, was a quiet day.
There were no doctor appointments. There were no tests. There were no visitors.
My mom was tired, and she was content to just lie in bed all day. She slept a lot more. She was conscious a lot less.
Between naps, all that my mom did was talk about Thanksgiving.
She could picture it. If she started radiation the following week, she would be done in time, and she would be feeling good on Thanksgiving day.
She imagined herself downstairs, standing by the door, ready to hug each guest, as they arrived. Everyone would be surprised and happy to see her up and walking around. We would all rejoice in the miracle of her recovery.
She saw herself helping to decorate, and to prepare the food. She planned to sit at the table and give a speech about gratitude. She would say grace, and thank God for each breath of all of our lives. She would then thank Him for taking care of Steven, until she could come to take care of him herself.
My mom wanted us to understand what had got her through the most difficult experiences of her life. She said that we could face anything, as long as we remained grateful to and faithful in God.
She went over the guest list, again and again. My dad and my brother would be there. Margaret and Trevor would travel from Iowa. James and Jess would come from Minnesota. I would be there with Milan, Elijah, Mikey, Marko and Aanesera.
She would have twelve guests. Some people would have to eat in the kitchen.
She talked about the food. It would be a true feast, with turkey, ham and roast beef. We would have all of the traditional side dishes: stuffing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, squash and cornbread.
She sent me to the kitchen to fetch her recipe book. It was filled with handwritten notes about improvements that she had made over the years. She told me to put honey in the sweet potatoes, and to roast fresh cranberries until they popped. She imparted to me the wisdom that she had gained over decades of preparing healthy, delicious meals for those whom she loved.
She could see the perfect Thanksgiving in her mind, and she intended to make it a reality.
This day, last year, was a good day. It was a calm day. It was a quiet day. It was a day of planning for the future. It was a day of hope.
I am grateful that my mom and I had days like this. I have faith that God was there, loving her, throughout her time of suffering.
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Who knew that this is what “mighty” would look like? Your mother and mine, too. Mighty in spirit. Their memory is a blessing - and you are no slouch, yourself, Kristi. I so appreciate your telling her story.
A day of hope, respect, and thanks. Such a day to come, if only the doctors had lived up to their end of the bargain, if only.